


alone, at the edge of a universe

by every_six_hours



Category: Original Work
Genre: POV Second Person, anthology but it's venting, some swearing involved
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-13
Updated: 2020-05-13
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:09:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24161092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/every_six_hours/pseuds/every_six_hours
Summary: You wait too long to confront them, so you just tuck your memories away. At some point, it becomes too late to reasonably bring them up at all.The title is a lyric from "Dream Sweet in Sea Major".





	alone, at the edge of a universe

1\. You’re in the gender-neutral bathroom with two of your newest friends. One of them is hunched over a sink, smearing water on his arm where you all scribbled on it in green marker. Before he rinses, he looks like a scrawny Hulk, and you tell him so. He laughs, but your other friend just stares.

Later, she asks if you like him. She says you’re funnier with him. You tell her that you’re always funny, but for the rest of the summer, you wonder.

2\. You don’t speak to be heard, and he notices right away. Any of your whispered jokes should be lost, like they’ve been for years. But now that he’s here, he points and laughs, makes himself into an audience that wasn’t supposed to exist. It bugs the shit out of you. It’s an unnerving addiction, being seen. So you turn it into a game.

3\. This is your least favorite thing about camp, that people stand on chairs and read their poetry aloud and expect you to do the same. It’s technically sweet, and it’s not the poor girl’s fault for passing it on, but now it’s your burden, and you’re planning and preparing and thinking about dying before you’ve even sat back down.

But then your friend’s at your side to comfort you, and he’s at your other side to mock you, and your world rights itself. Because she knows you’re scared, and he knows it’s stupid, and as you watch them bicker over how to treat you, you wonder how they managed to understand you so well.

4\. The third time you meet his mom, she asks you about college. You only answer because you’re stuck in her car. Your friend at home wants you to go to Oxford with her, you say, but you’ll never get in. She says you absolutely could, in a voice betraying no kindness or optimism. Just confidence in you. Only one person could have given her that impression of you.

You can’t feel flattered, so you feel betrayed. You’re angry for all these people that he’s set you up to disappoint.

5\. He’s at his most unnerving when he’s being genuine. The attention you always crave, without any sarcasm as a buffer, gives you headaches. Now you have to live with the knowledge that he likes your singing, he likes your guitar playing, he thinks your interest in theater is cute. It almost feels more cruel of him, when he forces the banter into honesty. You built this friendship on dishonesty.

6\. There are always three stars in the sky when the blessings start, but by the time you lie down to meditate, there are always more. You choose the same spot every week, right below the baby pine trees. The gravel digs into your spine and your only company is a single mosquito, but you have a great view of the branches. At the right angle, the tip of a needle looks like it shines. For a few minutes every week, you stop talking, stop moving, and watch as the stars slide into place.

One week, he joins you. You give up on the sky and stare at his sleeve parallel to yours, the side profile of his hood covering his face. You talk with him the entire time.

7\. You don’t know if you’re in love with him. With every day that you miss him, he changes more from the boy that you remember. You miss him every day. You miss the person you became when you were with him.

8\. He’s put enough distance between himself and the fire pit that the warm air doesn’t reach him. He’s trying to do some idiotic hand-hug with all of his friends, to little success. You take your turn, fold your thumb around the side of his palm, and force yourself not to react. He grins, and your face burns.

**Author's Note:**

> POV: You're hiding a years-long crush on your friend from the camp that both of you have left


End file.
